Turning Back the Clocks
by shywr1ter
Summary: S1,ML. Originally the tale of the fall change to Standard Time, Chapter Two now celebrates our spring forward into Daylight Savings Time. Nothing deep, just a bit of ML moosh.
1. Falling Back

_**For the DAR Challenge**, in honor this weekend's shift from Daylight Savings to Standard Time, and our gaining a 'free' hour to spend as we choose. The Challenge, in its entirety: "Write an S1 M/L fic in an hour."_

A/N: The characters are premised on those in the AU cross-over stories _Concurrent Jurisdiction_ and _Minimum Contacts_: Tony DiNozzo (Michael Weatherly) of NCIS and Logan Cale (Michael Weatherly) of Dark Angel are cousins. The story is set in DA's time, the year 2020. Moosh is involved. (And as DST will be extended a month on each end next year, let's assume it will be a November change in 2020, too.)

**DISCLAIMER**: DA and NCIS characters lovingly borrowed; no profits made.

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_**Turning Back the Clocks**_

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**November 28, 2020**

At 10:50 p.m., the lights in Logan Cale's penthouse were dimmed, the music, low and sultry ... after more than a week of missions and projects and Normal's pleas for overtime coverage keeping Max and Logan too busy to breathe, they had finally found a piece of Saturday night that they promised to each other.

The dinner Logan had prepared had surpassed even his usual miracles; his dessert was sublime. And now, as the flickering candlelight cast shadows on their folded linen napkins, empty china plates, and their two forms sitting near each other at the corner of Logan's dining table, Max leaned toward the chef, and slipped her hand under his. "If this is what happens after not getting to see you for a couple weeks..." She lifted his hand to her mouth and nibbled one of his fingers provocatively. "Maybe I should stay away more often..."

Logan's smile crinkled upward, and he let his hand slip around to cup her jaw, his thumb gently tracing her bottom lip. "Don't even say that..." He leaned closer now too, gently brushing his lips across hers. "You can't begin to imagine what I have planned for tomorrow..." He pulled back, looking into her eyes hungrily, and added, an eyebrow lifting suggestively, "and there are chocolates on the pillows..." he tempted her.

She smiled, widely ... 10:54 P.M. "Oh, you _do_ know how to sweet-talk a girl," she purred...

10:55 P.M. And suddenly, the phone rang. In spite of himself – for only the barest second – Logan's – _Eyes Only's_ – eyes flickered toward it, expectantly.

But Max caught it. "Ohhh, Logan..." Max groaned, her shoulders dropping a little. "Not tonight..."

He rallied, and looked back into her eyes, tuning out the telephone as his voice began reciting his 'out' message from his machine. "Just us, Max," he vowed. "We promised tonight would be just..."

"Hey, cuz...!" came the unmistakable voice through the small speaker.

Logan blinked, surprised, given the time difference. "Tony?" he murmured.

Max sat back, shrugging resignedly. "You'd better get it..."

"I wonder what..." Logan frowned, imagining bad news.

"...I know you're there..." Tony was speaking over them, oblivious, from Logan's message machine. "Or are you digging for..."

"The timer!" Logan sat up as if he'd been struck, eyes wide; he slapped his wheels and suddenly shot backward, away from the table and pivoted out toward the kitchen. "Max, get it, please! We change the clocks tonight!" he crowed.

Looking at Logan as if he'd abruptly gone around the bend, Max simply got up and grabbed the phone, cutting off the machine as she did so and lifting the receiver to her ear.

"Tony?" She fully expected him, at this point, to be just as looney, out of the blue, as Logan apparently was...

"Max, that you?" The familiar voice bellowed in her ear.

Her grin rose again, despite the unexpected turn of events. "How many other women have you caught here in the middle of the night, Tony?"

"Pleadin' the Fifth on that one, Max. How _are_ you?" She could just imagine those DiNozzo dimples in play, and she laughed.

"I'm good. You?"

"Perfect. And let me guess – the phone ran Logan off to the kitchen, where he's digging for..."

"'The timer,' he said." Max finished for him. "I'm guessing he's not bringing in the one he usually uses on his stove. Don't tell me this is some whack Cale family holiday, 'the changing of the clocks?'" she rolled her eyes, hearing Logan going through drawers, apparently for a rarely used – and portable – timer.

There was just a slight pause before DiNozzo spoke. "He didn't tell you about it, then?" At her response that he hadn't, Tony spoke again, his voice a bit softer, and he spoke more quickly. "Look, he can tell you the details – but since I'm calling in the middle of the night, you deserve at least a reason I'll be keeping him on the phone for an hour..." He drew a breath, and said, "It was something his mother started, long before Logan was born, when I was a kid. I must have been maybe seven or eight years old and ... I think it all started at a family dinner, talking about 'changing the clocks' and gaining an hour when the time "fell back." All the adults were joking about what they'd like to do with the free hour they gained, and all of a sudden, Aunt Sara said she'd like to use that hour to talk to me. Well, I thought she was just being nice, bringing me into the conversation, like always ... but she really did it. She called me, cross-country, 2:00 A.M. my time, and my parents woke me up to talk to her. I had my 'free hour' on the phone, with Aunt Sara. And she called, every year after that ... every year Mom or Dad would wake me up until I was old enough to get myself up and awake enough to find the phone. After Logan was born she still called, and pretty soon he was old enough to join us in our calls. The calls saw me though high school and college ... through every year, 'til she died. And that first year, after she was gone... I called Logan. And I've called every year, ever since. We use our free hour to talk to each other."

Max stood, silently, unmoving, until, all at once, she was aware that Logan had come close, timer in his lap, waiting, a soft, melancholy smile on his features. She blinked, and felt the moisture that had pooled in her eyes suddenly spill out of one corner. And she knew then, from his expression, the tears pooling there had given them away; Logan knew that Tony had explained the call. Blinking again, rapidly, Max swallowed and, not taking her eyes off Logan, said to Tony. "That's one of the best whack family holidays I've ever heard of." She smiled for her lover, reaching out for his hand. "Logan's ready for you, Tony; he's here – he found the timer."

"Max?" Tony was speaking again. "You know you're welcome to join us."

"Thanks – maybe next year." She smiled, knowing the cousins still had so much to say, absently wondering how it would have been last year, an hour of conversation between an injured Logan and DiNozzo, who didn't yet know then that his cousin had been shot. "You boys have fun."

"You're the best, Max," Tony said. "I promise to use at least half of the time telling him that."

She laughed, the sound an emotional hiccup. "I'll hold you to that. G'night, Tony..." Max lowered the phone to hand to Logan. "I'll get the jacuzzi ready. And if you're lucky..." Her smile widened, "I'll leave you some of that chocolate."

Logan took the phone and before lifting it to his ear, took her hand with his free one and pulled her close, saying softy, "I love you, Max..."

"_See? Was that so hard??"_ they both heard come though the phone, loud and clear.

Chuckling at the interruption, Max leaned in to kiss Logan and pull back. "Enjoy your party."

"Thanks, Max. I'll be there at midnight. And we can do some clock changing of our own..." Logan promised, with a devilish grin. Max straightened ... smiled as she took another long look, admiringly... and turned to walk on in to the bedroom. And as she did, she heard the man she loved crank the single knob of the old-fashioned timer around one time and smack it down on the table as he lifted the phone. "Cuz...!" he crowed...

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**The End**

'_Night, everyone!_

_-S-_


	2. Springing Forward

_A sequel to the little story written for last fall's DAR time change challenge. This little story will make much more sense if you've read that story first (chapter 1, here.) _

**To restore balance in the world, here's the follow up for this weekend's time change here in the US to Daylight Savings Time...**

**DISCLAIMER**: DA characters lovingly borrowed; no profits made.

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_**Springing Forward**_

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**_March 13, 2021_**

The computer's clock read-out blinked patiently... faithfully... _1:57... 1:58... 1:59..._

_3:00 a.m._

Logan blinked at the read out, frowning in momentary uncertainty – hadn't it just read _one_ something...?

But that surprise was supplanted by another when, at that very moment, he heard his door open and close, with the sound of Max's boot heels striking briskly along his floorboards. He hadn't been expecting her –

Yet she strode past him toward his bedroom, barely breaking her stride to lean into his lair and order, "time to sign off, Logan – we have some business to take care of."

Bewildered now, Logan glanced back over his shoulder, a very puzzled look on his face. "Max?" She had not planned to come over tonight; she'd said she had to promise an evening to Cindy and Kendra, who complained that Logan took all her time these days. And 2:00 was early for them...

..or _was_ it 3:00?

He heard her steps disappearing back into his bedroom... and... his bathroom? Suddenly there was the unmistakable sound of water running.

_Not the shower._

"Max?" He flipped off his brakes, backed up a little and pivoted to go investigate. He'd only made it partway down the hall when she strode back out to confront him, stopping a couple feet in front of him, her balled fist on her hip and her head thrown back in challenge. He blinked again, his surprise rekindled once more – and he couldn't come up with anything he'd done lately that would piss her off...

_...piss her off and send her straight to his jacuzzi?_

"I ... get the feeling I should be worried." He raised his eyebrows, reaching toward her in hopeful affection, his primary hope being that he hadn't forgotten something vital. "What did I do?" He tried an engaging smile. He really couldn't come up with anything that would put him in the dog house, so thought he was safe and his question merely charming.

But she didn't budge. "You have something of mine, Logan, and I want it back..."

The surprise was back in earnest. "What?" He wracked his brain. _What could I possibly have of Max's...? _

"Last fall, Logan, November 28th." As he watched her, he saw that a certain light arose in her eyes, and as his hope was rekindled he saw her mouth curl up at the corner in a provocative smirk. Seeing his uncertainty slowly shift into anticipation, Max took another assertive step toward Logan and, first one knee easing along his thigh, then the other, she slid into his lap. Her smirk settled into seductive smile as she slowly, pointedly, grabbed a fistful of his sweater, in the middle of his chest, and pulled him toward her a couple inches as she brought her nose nearly to his. "You took something of mine," she growled, sensually.

He was still clueless but with the fire she'd lit in his chest, he was ready to confess to anything – and couldn't help but grin. "So you're going to drown me in the jacuzzi and take it back?"

Her own grin spiked upward. "I might..." She loosened her grip on his sweater and moved to grab it on either side of its hem, pulling it over his head. "I might try a few different things..."

He felt a familiar quiver of the muscles just below his rib cage as she breathed into his neck. He started to bring his arms around her when she sat up straight and teased, "oh, no. Not until you pay up." She never broke eye contact as she backed off his lap, and tossed his sweater over her shoulder, her eyes still flickering up and down over his well-toned chest. Standing in front of him again, she tipped her head back down the hall toward the whirlpool, the sound of its filling water reaching their ears. "Better suck it up and start the payback, Logan..." with a cryptic grin, she turned on her heel and started heading back down the hall.

"Max--" When she turned to look at him, he finally shrugged, confessing. "I give up. I have no idea what I took from you."

This time when her grin rippled again, her eyes sparkled. "My _hour_, Logan. My extra hour last fall, when we changed the clocks. When you shared your added hour with Tony – you took _mine_ with you." Her grin fully in place now, she shrugged and said, "all the TV news guys said that everyone's _losing_ an hour tonight. The way I see it, that puts me two behind – so if you're going to lose an hour tonight anyhow – I figure you might as well lose it to me."

The sense of fun in her voice brought back his smile, and he laughed, "Max, that makes no sense at all."

Her eyebrows raised. "Are you saying you don't _want_ to get on there and return the hour that's rightfully mine?" At his response, a wordless scramble to push past her and on into his bedroom, Max chuckled, "I didn't think so."

But when she started to follow, his sudden about-face caused her eyebrows to shoot up much as his had before. "Wait, it's in here..." He went the wrong direction and disappeared into the kitchen. In the next moment, though, Max's face creased with her chuckle at the sound of rummaging which followed soon after. "Ah, ha!" she heard... and in a moment he re-emerged and came close, smiling happily for her. He stopped in front of her and, after cranking the heavy dial around one full sweep, handed her the loudly-ticking, old-fashioned, wind-up kitchen timer.

"Well, come on, Max. Do you really want to waste your hour out here in the hall?" And as she grinned widely, turned on her heel and marched back toward the filling tub, Logan watched her appreciatively for a moment before murmuring to himself, as he started moving to follow, "...I didn't think so..."

_**Happy Daylight Savings Time, Everyone!**_

(To those of you changing this weekend: don't forget to reset those clocks!)


End file.
